Awaken: Blood of the Ancients
by Coho Commanche
Summary: Harry Potter has just lost his Godfather and discovered what the prophecy really said. Ancient and long lost secrets are brought to light as Harry begins a journey that will test the both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. Can Harry accept the changes he goes through, or will he lose himself in the darkness?
1. Chapter 1

**Awaken: Blood of the Ancients**

Harry Potter has just lost his Godfather and discovered what the prophecy _really _said. Ancient and long lost secrets are brought to light as Harry begins a journey that will test the both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. Can Harry accept the changes he goes through, or will he lose himself in the darkness?

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, so no pointing fingers. **

**Please no Flames, this is my first story and flamers will not be acknowledged. Constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged. **

~parseltongue~

_Spells, letters, thoughts, _or_ flashbacks_

Letters and flashbacks will be identified further, note that thoughts and spells that would normally be _italicized_ will appear normal when in a letter or flashback. For words of emphasis, they will appear **bolded **and _italicized_.

PROPHECIES

AN:

Until Death and Magic decide later on to take on "genders", they will be referred to as it.

I will probably turn this into a romance, but I'm not sure who will be with who.

This will be a slow fic most likely as I enjoy reading more than I do writing. Give enough reviews, follows, or favorites though and that might change.

**Chapter 1. First Stirrings**

**Dursleys' car**

Harry sighed, looking out he car window as Uncle Vernon grumbled under his breath about 'his freak of a nephew'. Harry felt numb, the shock of losing his Godfather still preventing him from really accepting what had happened. Though, perhaps that was a good thing considering what he had done to Dumbledore's office.

**Flashback**

"_Harry my dear boy, I am so sorry about what has happened to Sirius, he died bravely…" _

_Harry felt the numbness abruptly recede as he stared into his Headmaster's __**twinkling**__ eyes. Honestly! What sort of person would sit there telling a young man that his only hope of escaping hell and the last of his true family was gone and still freaking twinkle at him? Harry had the sudden urge to poison the dish of lemon drops that Dumbledore was reaching to offer him. _

"_Sorry? Sorry won't bring him back!" Harry stood and shouted the last part. The portraits huffed and scowled, one even muttered about some sort of cruel and unusual punishment that should never be used on a student…except perhaps on Malfoy or Riddle. Dumbledore just sat there; eyes still twinkling and grim smile in place. Harry's head began to throb rather painfully the longer he looked. "Why was my name on that orb along with Voldemort's?" Harry managed to ask this in a semi-calm voice, but his eyes glowed with the fury that he felt. Harry still already knew what the prophecy said; he just wanted to know if the Headmaster would tell him the truth about the matter. _

_Dumbledore looked at him with a calculating gleam entering his eyes, as if he were debating the wisdom of what he was about to impart. "I suppose it is time for you to learn why Voldemort went after your family that night." Here Dumbledore paused, his blue eyes gazing at something only he could see. "It all started when one of Voldemort's spies overheard a job interview between Sybill Trelawney and myself. The spy overheard part of the prophecy that she made during our interview. He managed to make it back to his master to deliver the part he had overheard. Based off of the fragment of prophecy, Voldemort narrowed down his targets to just two families; yours and the Longbottoms." _

_Harry couldn't help it anymore; first having had to restrain himself from raging about the fraud that Trelawney was and the fact that Dumbledore had avoided saying what the prophecy said, now hearing about the Longbottoms was the final straw. "Neville? Neville Longbottom! What exactly did that prophecy say! Tell me! I have asked you why Voldemort has targeted me time after time, yet you never answer! It's my life, I need to know __**why**__!" Harry was standing with his arms braced against the Headmaster's desk, his face red, and his eyes glowing the exact same color as _Avada Kedavra. _Little did Harry know that his eyes were glowing in a way no human eyes would, even magical. The problem was compounded with the pupils slowly narrowing into slits and a small bit of crimson beginning to form around the pupils. _

_Dumbledore's smile __**finally**__ froze and morphed into_ _a frown, his fear carefully hidden behind said frown. "Very well, I only wanted to allow you to have a normal childhood." Harry snarled and his knuckles turned white as he clenched his hands on the desk. "Dumbledore…"_

_Dumbledore blanched, his instincts telling him _'run, run, run, run, hide'_, he coughed weakly to hide his gasping for breath. He calmed down slightly when Fawkes trilled a calming tune. "THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE TRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MAKE HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT…AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER, FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES…THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…"_(Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling)._ Dumbledore finished speaking and simply watched Harry. At first nothing happened, then time itself seemed to stop._

"_Was Neville a candidate?" Dumbledore almost didn't hear the whispered question, but alas he did._

"_Yes, though he was born on July 30__th__ not the 31__st__. Voldemort was not willing to take any risks, so he came after you and ordered the Lestranges and Crouch Jr. to go after the Longbottoms." Dumbledore had answered Harry's question with his trademark twinkle and smile, he failed to notice how the red had spread outward like veins in Harry's eyes with his every word and action. That infernal smile and airy tone of voice snapped the last thread of Harry's control. _

_It was as if a bomb had suddenly gone off as time suddenly seemed to resume, but at an accelerated rate. Knickknacks and trinkets went flying, exploded, or simply melted. Black flames tipped in silver and blue seemed to halo Harry's body, shadows stirred, and a roar of fury erupted from his mouth. The portraits screamed and fled the chaos that had become the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore was flung into a wood and glass cabinet that had till that moment somehow escaped Harry's magic's wrath. Glass ripped through the violently colored robes and sliced into skin. The desk cracked under Harry's fists when he slammed them down on top of it. Fawkes screeched and tried to dive-bomb him, but he too was flung backwards. Within mere seconds, but what seemed to last a lifetime, the once proud and beautiful office was ripped to shreds. Meanwhile, Harry wasn't even aware of what his magic was doing as he raged within his own mind at his life so far. His thoughts were like a hurricane and his magic mirrored it, he was completely unaware of this important fact. One thought stood before all the others within the eye of the storm: _Dumbledore had lied to him.

I considered ending the chapter here, but I know how that feels…be glad I'm merciful.

**Dursley Residence (A.K.A Harry's personal hell)**

Harry was confused. Why you ask? Simple, he had remembered something after having one of his nightmares about the battle; the spot he'd taken the orb from. There was the orb he'd taken that had his name and an empty place with a lable containing his name as well. Only shards of glass remained in he spot where an orb should have been. His anger was steadily beginning to build the more he thought about the lie. The prophecy Dumbles has told him about was fake, well _mostly_ fake. The real prophecy had a much more sinister sound to it, as if the fake wasn't sinister enough.

**Flashback**

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER OF THE ANCIENTS APPROACHES…BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED THE DARK LORD, HE WILL BE MARKED BY DEATH, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWERS UNKNOWN…WHAT WAS DESTROYED SHALL RISE AND WHAT WAS BUILT SHALL FALL, BLOOD SHALL REVEAL ALL, MAGIC WILL BE UNLEASHED, SHADOWS WILL AWAKEN, AND DEATH WILL BOW TO ITS MASTER…THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO RULE APPROACHES AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…"

**End Flashback**

_Was the empty spot where the prophecy Dumbledore witnessed once held there? Did it come to pass on the night Voldemort lost his body? What about when I killed Quirrell and Diary Tom? Could any of these events have fulfilled the prophecy Dumbledore witnessed?_ Harry's headache grew worse as he attempted to figure out if Dumbledore knew about the other newer prophecy. _Wait…hold on! The second prophecy was made the night Voldemort came to kill me. The tag for the first one was dated before I was born, so it had to have been fulfilled when the AK rebounded. Thank the gods…Voldemort is now _their _problem._

Harry felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The fear of always being the one to deal with Voldemort disappeared and he could not help grinning. He was done with worrying about meeting everyone's expectations; he would do what he wanted and damn them all if they did not like it. The second prophecy was worrying though, and he frowned. Had Dumbledore known about it? Most likely, or at least knew of it, hence his anger at the old coot.

Harry groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, his back had started aching again. Between a growing headache and a back that felt like a bad bruise being pressed on, Harry was more miserable than normal. As the numbness wore off, the sorrow and guilt began to build. Harry blamed himself for Sirius's death. If he had not run off without trying to do more to reach an Order member or Sirius himself, he would never have gone to the Ministry. Tears leaked out of his eyes and he suddenly burst into sobs as it really hit him; Sirius was dead and it was all because of him. He had nearly gotten his friends killed as well. The guilt was crushing him and he felt like he could not breath without suffocating on it. Harry cried and cried, letting all of his pain and anger out as he screamed into his ratty pillow. By the time he finally hiccoughed the last of his tears and screams out, he was beyond exhausted. The last few days had been beyond hectic and between the battle, the office incident, and the emotional rollercoaster, he fell into a coma like sleep. Blissfully unaware of how his life was about to change forever…unaware that the planet was about to reveal her most guarded and dangerous secret.

Far away, under miles of water in the Bermuda Triangle, a sudden rumble echoed through the water. Magic, which had been swirling about lazily became frenetic and thick. Magic long since thought dead to the world of magic, long thought lost by the world of Muggles was awakening. The water became warmer; the climate within the triangle was changing, reverting to what it once was. Ancient wards became active once more and those sensitive to such things hid in fear. Something that had been thought destroyed and long lost was rising, recovering, rebuilding. Awakening.

Death stirred. It slowly stretched out to watch the events unfold around it. It had waited far too long for this, and from the look of things, Death would be waiting a while longer. It grumbled, displeased that its future master had yet to claim the other two Hallows. Why was its master waiting? Had something happened? Death reached out to search for any irregularities. Death snarled, there was simply no other word for it, it was furious.

"Horcruxes… my master, no soon to be master is a horcrux. The Dark Lord has gone too far. Why? Why now am I able to sense the horcrux within him? Did the close proximity to the veil do something to make it visible?" Death, for reasons unknown, felt the need to muse vocally. Magic thought that it just liked the sound of its voice.

"It could be that the forbidden room has something to do with it."

Death whirled around, glaring at a smirking swirl of…well…magic. (Don't ask about how a swirl of magic can smirk, I said it can. My word is law)

"You!" Death did not look amused as it swiped at Magic with its scythe. Magic nimbly moved out of the way. Grinning mockingly.

There was a small feud between the two. It had started when Magic enabled for immortality to become possible. Death found such a thing offensive if it was not the one to grant it. Since the very first immortal, Death and Magic had been trying to one up the other. It was up for debate as to which had won the last round. The last round was incidentally the Boy-Who-Bloody-Won't-Die. Magic claimed that Harry Potter would have never survived without its blessing. Death claimed the same thing, however, in doing so, Death managed to royally screw itself. While the only consequence of Magic declaring Potter as having its blessing, along with a few other forces, Death's claim created a consequence that was quite different…very different. Rather than simply receiving a blessing, baby Harry received a promised title; Master of Death. To say Death was displeased when it realized what had happened when it anchored the child's soul when Voldemort's Avada Kedavra hit him,would be the ultimate understatement. Death was _still_ enraged at itself for giving away the Hallows and not collecting them upon the original owner's death. If it had not been for the third brother _willingly_ welcoming Death, then it would have had all of its Hallows back. But no, the git had to go and do something that Death never thought he would, something he thought only suicidal people would do. It was painfully obvious as to where Potter had descended most directly from.

Magic, pain in the ass that it was decided that it should stoke the already blazing fire by poking at Death with a tendril of itself. "You." Death barely kept itself in check, it had to remind itself that it was the elder and therefore more responsible and would not sink into such a childish trap. Magic tended to respond by saying exactly what Death said just to be an even bigger pain. As if Potter and Riddle didn't already make its existence miserable, now Magic decided it was the perfect time to harass Death.

"What do you mean by the forbidden room contributing to the mess?" Magic bounced around in gleeful excitement. Death gave its best death glare. (yes, I know, but I couldn't help it)

"Ohhh, is Death miffed that it did not know something for once? Hmm? Well if you really want to know then say _please_." Magic was grinning rather manically; barely able to contain its evil laugh at the look Death was giving it.

"Please. Please impart you wisdom upon my low and inferior self." The words felt like acid and Death almost didn't manage to grate them out. As it was, the request sent a small thrill of fear up and down Magic. It knew that tone; it was not a good sign. Maybe it should stop taunting Death until it had the chance to calm down.

"Err, right, well where was I? Ah! I was going to tell you about the forbidden room. When the boy was in the Department of Mysteries, his love for his friends and family was so great that the door to the forbidden room opened. Now, even I cannot mess with Love or interfere in any way really, it is completely different, like you and I. Night and day, you get the picture. I don't know what Love is planning, nor do I want to ask it. I believe that it probably is feeding the Potter child its power. In doing so, if it indeed is doing this, then the horcrux would naturally try to separate from the child's soul to escape something so pure. By hiding within the one soul you can't accurately sense, it had found the perfect hiding place. As it is no longer trying to integrate itself, the shard is sticking out like black on white." Magic anxiously regarded Death as it began to pace. Long delicate bone fingers clenched. Thankfully Death felt the need to wear an ominous billowing black cloak of shadows and mist. Its large black feathered wings twitching every now and then in response to Death's agitation.

Death swung about to face Magic so suddenly that it was taken off guard and squeaked in fright. Death smirked at Magic's reaction, causing others to squeak or scream, it wasn't picky, never got old.

"Pray tell, why now?" Magic looked confused at the question, flashing several different colors as it tried to understand the question.

"Why now what?" Death's hand tightened on its scythe. It sucked in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, counting to ten in an attempt to calm down.

"Why is Love interfering now? Why not before earlier like the others all seemed to do in a temporary fit of madness?" Magic started bouncing round, colors flashing wildly.

"Love has much harsher conditions to be met. It along with Life are the only two that can go up against you. You three can't beat the each other, but you do make a habit of interfering with the other's domains. It is possible that Life and Love are trying to one up you. What better way than with your future master?" Death's reaction to this news was strange. It stood there, not moving, silent, seeming to have been petrified. Magic was extremely tempted to poke Death to see if it had somehow been petrified. "Err…Death? You alright there?"

"Those bloody interfering…" Death began a rant of epic proportions, a massive tantrum really. It was so bad that Magic was both horrified and amused, and it's not easily horrified. The words Death knew were impressive and its use of such foul language awe-inspiring. Justice and Luck, two fast friends decided to see what had set off Death this time. It was hardly a surprise to see Magic cowering behind a rock as Death began destroying things left and right. Luck snorted, Justice laughed, Magic whimpered, and Death roared.

"What did you _do_?" This new voice caused the others to freeze. They all slowly turned to look at the small woman gaping in horrified fascination and the old man squinting at an hourglass at her side.

"Ah, shite! Love, you have the worst timing." Love jumped and turned to glare at Chronos. Unfortunately, she failed to notice Death lunging at her. With a football worthy tackle, the two began wrestling across the ground in the Shadow realm. The whole time the crowd of onlookers only continued to grow.

"So…what set Death off? Or rather who?" The onlookers groaned and scrambled away from Life. Of course he would show up. If Love and Death were together for any length of time, he was bound to show up as well. Life was almost as nosey as Love. Death whipped its head around to glare at its brother. It was a mystery why Death and Magic were still undecided as to what gender they prefer. The others had long ago chosen a gender and were quite content. Love lay panting on the ground, completely confused as to why her sibling had attacked her. Though a niggling feeling of guilt was slowly spreading.

"Why brother dearest, how wonderful of you to join us." Death's sarcastic tone of voice made several beings wince. Bad things happened when Death used that tone. It was by far the most "human" of the beings. It was only natural for such a thing to occur as it was constantly exposed to human souls. That sort of exposure has drastic effects on any being. The real reason it refrained from choosing a gender was due to its fear that Life and Love would set some sort of trap or prank. Keep in mind that pranks between beings are on a level no human could achieve. Except perhaps for the Marauders, Twins, or Harry himself. Of course none of the others knew that was the reason why Death remained genderless.

Some of the beings began to stealthily sneak away. None wanted to be present for the epic battle between the three siblings that was about to break out. The guilt that no filled both Life's and Love's faces did not bode well for the others, Peace especially.

With the sound of an enraged hell beast, Death flung itself at Life, dragging Love along with it.

The others scattered.

The battle had begun.

Review!


	2. Chapter 2

AN:

Sorry about there being no page breaks. I still can't figure out how to get them to show up. If you know how, I'd be most grateful for directions.

mindspeak

**Disclaimer: I'm an American, I'm not British, and I'm way too young to have written any famous books. **

Turns to the muse elbowing her.

"Yes?"

She (it?) glowered in a most Snape worthy fashion. I hissed and held up my fingers in the sign of a cross, and flung my body away from the demon that is my muse.

"Don't make me hurt you. Your readers don't want to hear about you, they want the damn story!"

**Chapter 2: Strange…Very Strange**

Harry woke up abruptly, practically flinging himself out of bed. He landed in an undignified heap, tangled in the old and frayed blanket on the shockingly cold floor. His heart was pounding and his eyes darted around, muscles tensed to either flee or stick it out. It took several long seconds for his mind to catch up to the fact that he was in no immediate danger. Slowly, Harry untangled himself from the blanket and sat on his bed. His gaze landed on the spot where Hedwig's cage usually sat; he had left her with Ron so that she wouldn't be 2 locked up in a cage all summer.

The dream that had caused such a violent reaction slowly came back in bits and pieces. He remembered an argument between a hyperactive swirling mass of light called Magic and a ominous Dementor like being that could only be Death as Magic had called it. He remembered the others that were present, at least vaguely. He signed, there was no use in trying to decipher an obviously crazy dream, as there was no way in hell it could be real.

Harry looked out his window and gave a bigger sigh; the time to make the Dursleys their breakfast had arrived. He got dressed, grimacing at the clothes he was forced to wear. Dudley's castoffs were not even fit to use for anything else but rags, and even that was a stretch for some of the "clothes". Harry slipped down the stairs silently, something he had perfected long ago, nimbly skipping the step that creaked. He skimmed his fingers along the door to his old room; the cupboard. It held a strange place in his heart. It was there that he felt safest and it was there that his life changed forever. After all, his uncle and cousin were far too large to enter it and he had been living in it when he received his first letter. There was also the fact that it was much easier to magic open one simple lock and snitch food. He also never had to worry about sneaking past his uncle and cousin at night.

Gabbing the list off of the fridge, Harry quickly began putting together breakfast. It wasn't long before the tantalizing scent of food wafting throughout the house woke up the Dursleys. It took far less time to make meals now, what with Dudley being on a diet, or at least pretending to be on one. Setting out the plates and utensils, Harry portioned the food accordingly, snatched his meager ration, and snagged his list of chores. He groaned as soon as he saw the lengthy list. The sound of what could only be described as an elephant or boulder bounding down the stairs signaled the arrival of his cousin and uncle. Harry turned around and began cleaning the already immaculate kitchen, waiting for his relatives to finish inhaling their food.

"Get me more food freak." Dudley's voice was surprisingly lacking the usual hatred. Harry complied and gave Dudley a piercing look. _Was he acting?_ Dudley refused to meet his eyes, and Vernon snapped at him to hurry up.

Hot. So freaking hot. Harry felt like he was melting. The sun seemed brutally fixed on him. No matter where he went he felt like his blood was boiling. He'd become so desperate to cool off that he decided in a fit of madness to try to stuff himself into the chest freezer. It helped, at least until he fell asleep and the lid fell on him. He'd woken up cursing a like a seasoned sailor. His aunt of course heard him, found him, and decided to attempt to hit him with a frozen turkey. Which is how Harry found himself fleeing the house and his watcher Mundungus. Thankfully, by some small miracle, or his strange luck, he had taken to carrying around his wand, invisibility cloak, and moneybag. He whipped out his wand and cloak, summoning the Knight Bus. He shoved the money into the collection box and said two words he'd never willingly say: Little Hangleton. It was odd, he meant to say the Leaky Cauldron, but it was as if something had frozen his vocal cords and forced him to say the two damning words. To make matters worse, he found himself unable to say anything but a polite 'no' to the offers of the Night Bus.

Harry found himself taking a backseat in his mind. His magic had gone insane! He mentally pounded his head on a convenient wall in his mindscape. His body outwardly seemed as calm as can be while internally he was panicking and still extremely hot. _Hold on. The Order will never think to look for me in Little Hangleton. They'll start off looking in Diagon Alley and maybe Knockturn Alley. I can only hope that Voldemort won't be nearby, if he is I'm screwed. _

By the time Harry finally stumbled off the bus, he was extremely peeved. All he wanted was one normal summer or dare he say it? One perfectly normal year, all he wanted was a peaceful and danger free year. He trudged along a dirt road, flashed of memories not his own teasing him the further he went. His scar felt strange and his head was becoming alarmingly dizzy. Staggering, he nearly fell to his knees when he realized exactly what he was seeing: Voldemort's memories. His magic tightened its control over his body once more, forcing him onward when all he wanted to do was run in the other direction.

If he had seen himself in a mirror, he would not have realized it was his reflection. His hair had started growing rapidly somewhere between the time he was in the freezer and the epiphany. His ears had taken on slightly pointed tips that became more pronounced as he grew closer and closer to a shack that made the Shrieking Shack look like a well kept home. Harry also grew taller and broader. Muscles began to build on his lanky frame and his bones ached with the pain of accelerated growth. His magic had a job, one that needed to be fulfilled now more than ever. It would take time for the changes to be finished, but by the time his sixteenth birthday came around, its job would be complete.

Harry came to a stop at the front door and grimaced at the snakehead still nailed to the door, or at least the skeleton of it. He was terribly confused; he was seeing the present and the past as Voldemort saw it. There was something snarling and hissing in his mind, he had a sneaking suspicion that it was his animagus. Before Sirius had died, he'd taken the animagus-revealing potion. He never did see his animal but he had definitely heard it each time he looked. He'd actually heard many different sounds that couldn't possibly have come from the same animal.

He gently pushed open the door, as it no longer even had a handle. His feeling of disquiet multiplied as he moved into the shack. Shadows clung to seemingly everything, and he would have sworn on his magic that they were alive and whispering. The hair on the back of his neck stood I end, and his eyes darted to the only spot not covered in shadows. That was hardly reassuring, in fact, he was so freaked out that even his magic agreed that it was time to get the hell out. He spun around and hightailed it. It was rather comical; he greatly resembled a certain cartoon of a roadrunner leaving behind a trail of dust. He practically flew across the dirt road, and summoned the Knight Bus as soon as he felt like he could actually speak a language that sounded vaguely like English. He hurriedly paid the fee, gasping and huffing for air.

"Huff, huff, L'kyCdrn, huff, huff, Lea…ky…Ca…uldr…on, huff Leaky Cauld-"

Too soon young master, we will have to wait.

Harry froze midsentence. It was like first year when he drank one of Snape's foul concoctions. The one that enabled him to pass through the fire but felt like liquid ice in his veins in the place of blood. Who are you!

Death

Harry couldn't breath, he couldn't think, he just felt like passing out. The mocking laughter echoing through his mind was _not_ helping. Stan eyed him with concern and fascination, like he couldn't decide whether to help him to a seat or stick him under the wizard equivalent of a microscope, which to a wizard or witch that never grew up or really spent time in the Muggle world, that equaled a really strange magnifying glass.

"Alright there mate?" Harry stared back stupidly, his normally vibrant green eyes glazed over. He was mumbling unintelligibly under his breath and Stan had to ask on of the passengers to "help the sod into a seat". Fortunately for one brain dead Harry Potter, his face had also changed and his long hair covered his most identifying feature: his blasted scar. He was still in a state of catatonia when Stan yelled "L'ky Cauld'rn!" Harry found the same kind soul who helped him into his seat leading him off the bus, into the Leaky Cauldron, and placed in front of Tom.

"…Know what 'appened. Lad came flying onto the bus like a bat out of 'ell." The man had a French accent, one that was strangely familiar. Harry came around when he was doused in the face with a cooling charm. His gaze sharpened and a thankful sigh of relief escaped him. The hysterical laughter finally tapered off into a surprised sputtering and he mentally grinned. It appeared that Death didn't really like the cold. Oh, the irony of that was enough to make Harry laugh rather madly. The few patrons in the bar, including the man steadying him eased away warily.

"S…sorry. I just came to a strange conclusion." Harry glanced up at the Frenchman and blanched. _Nonononononononononono! Oh gods, he's one of the crazy loons from my equally insane dream. What was he called? Life? Weird name…_

Another cooling charm blasted away his increasingly insane inner rambling. Death hissed and fled his mind altogether to Harry's vast relief. Tom and the Life look-a-like were eyeing him with mounting worry.

"Ahh, I'll just be going now." He nodded his head in thanks to Tom and turned to thank the strange Frenchman. "Thank you for assisting me earlier, I wish you a good day." With that he spun on his heel and strode with an air of great purpose out of the hazy pub, through the arch, and marched onwards to Gringotts. In his typical Harry Potter fashion, he remained blissfully unaware of the looks he was receiving and how his life was going to be abnormal even for him in the next few hours.

Death was sulking, nit that it would ever admit to it. In fact, it would eviscerate the one dense enough to even suggest it. It jumped in surprise when Life appeared out of nowhere in a flash of light and sparkles. Death's mood took an abrupt and suicidal jump off a cliff into a boiling vat of lava. Life remained oblivious to the impending suffering he was about to receive.

"Ah! Brother, I've been looking for you. Did you know that your master has already started coming into his inheritance?" Death remained silent, gazing moodily at its twin. Life continued as though Death had answered. "No? Well, let me tell you, he is one _fine_ looking master. Have you decided on a gender yet? I for one am jealous of your catch. No need to pout (ignoring the scythe that popped into Death's hand). I wonder if you'd be willing to share hi-" Life never got to finish his question, Death eviscerated him before he could. Death stalked away, robes billowing like giant wings, eye sockets glowing a hellish red, and a crazed grin stretched its mouth. It had decided to start appearing human, though it would hide its gender as long as possible. _Hmm, I suppose Life did have a point. Bastard thought to take my master… No! No, I must not act like some lovesick fool. __**Lovesick**__…_

"Dammit Love! Get your skinny ass out of whatever hole you're hiding in!" Tinkling laughter echoed mockingly around the Shadow realm. Death spotted a flicker of white and shot a bolt of lightning at it. A pained scream cut off Love's infernal laughter. _Far too cheerful. Ugh._ Satisfied that Death had made its point, it transported itself directly into the Room of Judgment, or as its siblings like to call it, the Room of Ego or Superiority Complex. Death had not been pleased the first time it heard those names.

Magic decided now was a good time to pop in. It glanced at Death and began backing away rapidly. Death gave its best death glare, its eye sockets no longer empty, but filled with two eyes that would send even Voldy running. Demon eyes were not easy to look into, of course, when Death went out into the human realm, it would change them to look human. No need to send mortals running away in crazed panic. It would just create a massive headache.

"So. You decided on a gender yet?" Magic asked this timidly, its own body now hidden beneath a violent orange robe. It hurt to look at. Death signed. Where was Peace when you needed her?

"Yes. Now go away." Magic perked up, and bounded forward like an excited puppy.

"Ohh, what is it, what is it?" Magic was actually squealing it was so excited. Its form trembled like Dobby was wont to do when Harry gave Dobby anything.

"Out!" Death snarled, standing up, its massive throne made out of human bones and black shadow velvet creating a nightmare worthy image. Magic, coward that it was, fled screaming, its hood falling back to reveal a head of short wavy bubblegum pink hair and elfin like features. The pink hair had vivid purple ends that made Death feel ill just looking at for more than a nanosecond. _Note to self: __**never**__ try to see what the rest of Magic looks like._

Death sat back on its throne with a world-weary sigh. It created an elaborate mirror, and after warding the room to prevent any unwanted visitors, slowly lowered its hood. Pale skin and red eyes gazed back at it. Deciding to change its hair to a color that one would never associate with Death, it watched with satisfaction as hair the color of blood grew. It continued to do so until it stopped at Death's lower back. The corkscrew curls gleamed as brilliantly as light reflecting. Full, red rose lips pulled up into a satisfied smile. Skin took on a silver glow, like moonlight, and a heart shaped face slowly took shape. One silver-rimmed ice blue eye and one sapphire and gold-rimmed eye stared at the breathtaking face of Death. Its hair took on silver and gold highlights, instead of looking odd; it only emphasized the same colors in both eyes. A body that even Aphrodite would be jealous of now sat regally on a throne of bones, looking like a delicate flower among withered plants. As Death gazed at her reflection, she idly mused about how her master would react. After all, in the era she gave out the Hallows, the title of master had more than one meaning that was often used. Master also meant husband, or at the very least to wizards it did and still remained so in many pureblood families. A wicked grin revealed two delicate fangs, looking extremely odd with angle like wings.

_Oh, this is going to be __**so**__ much fun. I must have a camera ready to capture all of the foolish mortals' reactions, especially my master._

Next up: Harry learns about his inheritances, goes shopping in Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, and meets Death as a "human" for the first time.


End file.
